


Captains of Light and Shadow

by FreeRen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, hooked duckling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeRen/pseuds/FreeRen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After training together in Royal Naval Academy, Emma "Swan" and Killian Jones are separated by fate. Now ten years later, they meet on the deck of her ship as opposing captains. She wonders what happened to the man she knew and loved... and is determined to bring Captain Hook back to the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She hasn’t seen Killian Jones in _years_.

Once upon a time, they were friends in the Naval academy. He was the only person that knew she was from royalty, which was her carefully hidden secret in order to attend Naval training in the first place. She had to attend in a different kingdom, Princess Emma was too recognizable for her to attend in her own kingdom.

_Swan_ , he called her affectionately in public, instead of anything remotely that had to do with her true title.

_Jones_ , she always responded with an eye-roll at his attention, secretly enjoying it, but never knowing how to proceed. The inexperience of youth and a new life making her hesitant to return his affections.

They steadfastly remained together until they were separated when he received his commission to Liam’s ship, the Jewel of the Realm. “Oh, come on now, Swan,” he told her before he boarded the ship, stopping short on the gangplank. “Just a few missions and then I’ll be able to convince Liam to bring you aboard. You’ll impress him on your own, I am positive.”  He held a hand over his heart dramatically. “There’s not a day that will pass that I won’t think of you… Emma.”

She smiled grimly, tears threatening to well up in her eyes, heart beating rapidly in her chest as she smiled. “Good.”

She never saw him after that.

It took her years of requests, tediously moving up the Naval chain of command and attempting with little success to learn his fate. Years of lies and bullshit before she finally gave up and used her father and mother to make the formal inquiries instead, to discover what the hell happened on that fateful mission.

The one that made Killian Jones lead a _mutiny_.

The one that turned Killian Jones into a _pirate_.

Her Killian Jones, the one who shined his boots at night religiously, the one who gave her a disapproving glare the first time she tried rum, the one who prided himself on good form and a strong moral code, to declare mutiny and steal the Jewel of the Realm.

Mutiny and piracy and Killian Jones simply didn’t mix in her mind.

However, as the years passed, stories began to circulate. The stories she heard about how Killian Jones completely ceased to be and a fearsome, ruthless man, one only known by his moniker, Captain Hook took his place… those were the stories she truly had trouble comprehending.

Finally, a decade after completing the Naval academy, after being passed over time and time again, she was commissioned with her own ship.

The Golden Scarab.

A ship to finally call home.

She had amassed a loyal crew over her years of work, one that happily left their various posts to work under the first female Naval Captain in the entire realm. One that did not pry into her past, one that accepted her as their Captain Swan, one that loyally followed her into hell and back, mission after mission.

And how did she repay them?

Captured.

First, she commanded them to run, opening the sails and praying to the gods the wind could keep them safe from harm. However, the pirate vessel had easily overtaken them regardless of the high speed her crew could manage.

She couldn’t bear to lose her beloved, loyal crew to pirates, imagining the lives lost and the bloodshed. So, she ordered them to stand down as the pirates shuttled over to the Golden Scarab with alarming speed. Lieutenant Graham Humbert had wanted to fight off the intruders, but she finally had to command him as his Captain to stand down.

It was all over in a matter of moments, her crew on their knees on the bridge while she remained, standing in the center of the deck, sword drawn… waiting. The plank was thrown over from the ship, landing on her deck with a crack of wood.

Finally, one of the pirates pushed her down to her knees. “On yer knees for the Captain,” he growled, his gnarled fingers digging into her shoulder painfully. Her knees hit the deck with a thud as she heard boots forcefully walk the plank and onto her ship. She trained her eyes at a point on the horizon, refusing to look at her captors before her ultimate death.

She prayed that it would be swift and her crew spared.

A sword slid from it’s sheath, the very sound of her death sentence as the blade gently made contact with her neck. “Eyes on me, Sailor,” the owner commanded, his voice smooth and lilting. “Never seen a Naval Captain as lovely as you, lass.” He murmured, eyes raking over the curves displayed under her white Captain’s jacket, appreciating the golden hair that had tumbled down her shoulders in the skirmish.

Slowly, she raised her eyes and found herself looking at the ghost of Killian Jones. Gone were his white pristine Naval jacket, hat and pants. They were replaced with traditional pirate attire, including a long black jacket that fell to his knees. He had dark circles under his eyes, despite his efforts to conceal them with black eyeliner. True to his name, the silver hook on his left arm gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight.

His blue eyes widened fractionally in realization as the pieces fell into place. “Captain… Swan,” he stated, his voice a little hoarse from shock.

“Captain Jones,” she replied back evenly, watching how his eyes narrowed at the usage of his real name and not his feared moniker. His jaw twitched slightly.

“Ah,” he smiled, a wooden smile that did not reach his eyes, “I usually go by Hook now, love,” he wriggled his hook slightly at her.

Her eyes flicked to the shell of the man she knew, to the hook he brandished. She was overcome by years of uncertainty, years of frustration and the overwhelming loss of the man she greatly cared for. The urge to know the hows and whys of his fate washed over her like the tide. “Parlay,” she replied quietly, eyes trained on his.

His eyebrows nearly rose off his forehead as he grimaced slightly, sword steady at her throat.

“Parlay, Captain Jones.” She repeated, more forcefully.

Another grimace as he replaced his sword and pinched the bridge of his nose with good hand. “Of course,” he stated mockingly as he gestured a hand towards his ship and started to walk off. “I shall lead the way to my quarters, so we can discuss terms, Captain!” He replied to her, mockingly. “Maybe much more than that!” He roared suddenly to his crew that cheered their approval.

Emma clambered to her feet, back stiff, eyes flashing with disdain. Deep down, she wanted that last comment to be chalked up to showmanship. “My crew is not to be harmed while I am on your ship.”

Killian froze and spun around, eyes locking to hers. “When have you known me to not follow good form, Swan?” He spit, eyes glittering like sapphires. “Your crew will not be harmed during our little parlay.”

She did not respond, yet her eyes flicked down to the hook and back to his, words unspoken.

_You are not the Killian Jones I once knew and loved._

It was with grim satisfaction when his eyes widened a fraction at her silent implications, and she quickly strode off to his ship.

——————————

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” He roared as soon as they both crossed the threshold into his Captain’s quarters. “I was moments from blowing your vessel to kingdom come, Swan!” His hand shook slightly as he reached for the silver flask on his desk, moving away from her, deeper into the Captain’s chamber.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that! I am not a pirate!” She yelled right back at her oldest friend, all pretenses of Captaincy thrown out the window as she followed him. He glared at her, a glare that would have a lesser Captain quaking in their boots, but she stepped closer, hands planted on her hips to properly stare him down. “…and I haven’t heard from Killian Jones in ten fucking years!”

His mouth opened to speak, but words could not come. He was ensnared by the beauty of her wrath. “Swan,” he whispered, hand reaching up to tentatively touch a golden curl.

Her hand shot up to slap his hand away, but ended up fisting into the lapel of his thick jacket. “Damn you, Killian Jones,” she muttered furiously as she shook him slightly. “I searched for years for what happened on the Jewel! For what happened to Liam. What happened to you and your crew! No one had any answers… they wouldn’t even release the full documentation to my parents.” Her rant ended off in an abrupt hiss.

He gave a low hollow chuckle as his eyes slid closed, his face looking worn and weary in the harsh light. “I good as killed him Emma.”

“Bullshit.” She replied, shaking him again, his eyes flying open. Her blood boiled as she wanted to rage at him, slap him, make him feel the pain and worry that she had felt. Then, she gazed into his eyes and saw the magnitude of the loss reflected there. “Jones,” she whispered, her hand almost reaching out to caress his cheek.

It was his turn to whirl away. “Don’t!” He whispered in a harsh pant. “Don’t touch me. I’m a villain, a pirate… poison to anything good and pure.” His dark laugh echoed through his chambers. “I pushed him into it! He poisoned himself to prove a point to me and it killed him!”

She stepped towards, hands up in the air as she moved slowly, delicately. “I don’t understand, Killian.”

His mouth opened to respond, but the pounding on his door interrupted his thoughts. “Cap’n! Are you done ‘parlayin’ that Naval wench yet? Is she scream’n yer name yet?”

Another voice joined the first, “Or maybe her mouth is too full.”

“Aye! She’s as good as she looks, mates!” He yelled back, the loud guffaws of his crew burning as she glared daggers at him. “Swan. I cannot let them believe that nothing happened and I just let you go. My crew will take what is in your armory and we will be on our merry way,” he snapped as he collapsed heavily into his ornate chair.

“Who said that I’m leaving just yet?” She replied coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. She stalked forward, standing so close to him, their knees brushed against each other.

“I am,” he replied wearily, turning his back on her, hand gripping his flask. “Go Swan and forget you crossed paths with the fearsome Captain Hook.”

Anger raced through her veins as her hand shot out, slapping the flask from his hand and spinning him around. Rum slowly leaked from the flask, a steady drip to the pristine floor. His eyes burned her in his anger, but she was too furious to care. “How dare you!” He yelled, pushing himself from his chair to his full, commanding height.

Again, she refused to back away from him and instead stepped closer, her breasts brushing against his coat. “You will not turn your back on me and drink away your damned demons! I mourned for you, I searched for you, Killian Jones! Now that the fates have chosen to cross our paths again, I will not abandon you,” she said, her voice low and fearsome in it’s own right.

A million emotions flickered through his deadened eyes, but Emma could swear she finally saw the light of hope in them as she continued.

“Tonight at dusk. Your story. My offer to help. Meet me in Windriville, at the Cantankerous Hedgehog Inn.” She took a deep breath, pushed up on tiptoe to gently brush her lips over his stubbled cheek. “If you do not show, then I suppose we will go our separate ways at last, Captain.”

He stood frozen as she turned on her heel and walked from his chambers, only his hand gingerly moving to touch the spot where her lips touched his cheek.


	2. Chapter Two

She could feel all eyes on her as she strode forcefully off the Jewel, no, the Jolly Roger, across the plank connecting the two ships and back to her own crew. Head held high, she glared at the members of Killian’s crew that were carting off items from her armory as she passed them by.

“Your captain said to speed this process up,” she barked at the men, green eyes burning holes in their movements, one hand casually resting on the flintlock pistol at her hip. “Something about the plentiful wenches in Windriville and he wants to meet them.”

The pirates sneered at her, but picked up the pace, nonetheless.

 

She continued on, moving to the bridge of her ship, where the crew was still on their knees in front of the remainder of the pirates. “Lower your weapons!” She commanded, snapping her cutlass from its sheath. “You shall release my crew. Your Captain and I have come to terms. Take what you will from the armory and get the hell off my ship.”

The remaining pirates looked at each other, marginally impressed by her commands and stalked off in search of the armory. Meanwhile, her crew gratefully clamored to their feet, shooting her looks of thanks.

A short, squat man complete with a hideous red hat remained to leer in her face. “Ah, I bet my Captain came to terms wit’ yer,” he muttered snidely.

Before Emma could react, her first Lieutenant had appeared at her side. Graham unsheathed his sword, the tip touching the breast pocket of the pirate who spoke before he could utter another foul word. “Shut your filthy pirate mouth. My Captain deserves respect and respect you shall show,” he snapped.

She shot him a dark look, Graham was a noble man, always quick to defend her honor. Yet, he failed to realize that some situations deserved a lighter approach than drawing swords and fighting it out. This was one of those circumstances.

“Lieutenant, stand down.” She smoothly slid between the two men and held the glare of the pirate who spoke out of turn. As she debated whether to insult him or punch him, he suddenly looked abashed.

The sharp snap of boots behind her told her she was no longer the only Captain on board. “Smee. Shut your abhorrent mouth and get off this bloody ship,” his clear voice bit through the ocean air.

Turning around, she noticed how his gaze flicked to and fro between Graham and herself. Only the years of friendship prior to his piracy alerted her to his complete disapproval. The slight downturn of his eyebrows and his locked jaw were always clear signposts to his anger. “Are we all finished Captain Jones?” She asked him neutrally, waiting for his reaction.

His jaw twitched as Graham turned his full attention to the situation and slid into place behind her. “A rather faithful foot-soldier you have here, Captain Swan,” he murmured, fingers locked tightly on his belt buckle.

A long moment passed while she deciphered the emotion pouring from his tightly wound frame in a tidal wave.

_Jealousy._

She fought the desire to rub a non-existent relationship in his face, but decided yet again, that a thoughtful approach was best. “I believe there are plentiful wenches that you wish to meet with in Windriville, Captain,” she replied crisply, glancing overboard at the water. “Should take a fairly decent Captain at least a day to arrive.” Taking a moment to toss back her hair and sheath her sword, she couldn’t resist her last jab. “Alas, my crew could be there tonight.”

Another jaw twitch, accompanied by a slow raise in his eyebrow. “Cheeky, Captain Swan.” His eyes traveled down her form, openly admiring the curves displayed in her white Naval uniform. “Yet, I shall be there by sunset, and deep in said wenches by time this lowly ship makes port.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get off my ship, Captain Jones.”

He stepped closer, eyes twinkling and more alive than she had seen all day. “Then, I shall see you in Windriville, _love_.” He winked suddenly, ignoring Graham’s furious glares from her left and spun on his heel instead. “Forget their trifling arms, men! There are wenches to be had!” He walked off her ship, smirking the entire way as his crew cheered.

“Damn you, Killian Jones,” she whispered, watching his crew return to the Jolly Roger.  She realized that he had smartly distracted his crew, leaving her ship with most of their armory intact.

Disarm with a lighter approach, _indeed_.

———————————-

As the Jolly Roger slowly faded from view on the horizon, she turned to look at the unhappy faces of her crew. Graham was front and center, frown settled deeply on his lips. Behind him, stood Ruby, brown hair fluttering in the breeze while she carefully watched Emma.

It was five years ago, they had rescued Ruby from an ugly tavern brawl in Tortuga, while investigating the whereabouts of the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Emma’s hunch about Ruby proved to be a boon for the crew. Her keen sense of perception had saved them from many a tight situation.

“We cannot go to Windriville,” Graham told her stubbornly, then looked over his shoulder before continuing in a lower voice. “I don’t care if you used to know him, Emma. We’re lucky to be alive after an encounter with Captain Hook! He’s dangerous.”

“Set sail for Windriville,” she commanded, ignoring Graham’s wounded expression as he relayed her command to the crew. “We will sail for Windriville, but I have not decided to make port there. Not yet,” she explained to her friends. “But while we sail, let me tell you a story.”

Her eyes flickered over to Ruby, wordlessly asking for her input and support.

“You were friends… once upon a time?” Ruby’s question hung limply in the air as Emma nodded. She looked out over the gentle waves that slapped against the hull of the Golden Scarab and remembered the first time she had encountered Killian Jones.

_She was in her first week at the Naval Academy, small and quiet, attempting to stay in the shadows and learn as much as possible.  Yet, thanks to her father’s diligent sword training, she had quickly risen to the top of the class in swordsmanship, astonishing many of her peers._

_It was a late summer evening. She was walking back to the Naval station from the fleet, when she was quickly cornered by five men that were most unhappy with her skills. Apparently, these men all noble born and expected to graduate at the top of their Naval class. They quickly surrounded her from all sides, backed up against a large tree as they hurled insults._

_“Ah, here’s the Naval harlot. Opening her legs so she’ll get ahead of the competition.”_

_“Aye, shows the instructor her tits and she gets the world!”_

_“Nah, she’s usually on her knees, right?” The largest man, Smith snarled down in her face, breath stinking of stale lager._

_“Pity no lady would ever do that favor for you, Smith?” She replied smartly, her retort earning her a backhanded slap across the cheek._

_Smith laughed, carefully tracing the opened cut on her cheek as he swirled some of her blood on his fingertip. “You’ll be down on your knees before long,” he whispered as his men laughed around him._

_A groan broke through the laughter. “Oh, now that’s just bad form, mate. Add in the bad innuendo, the implied sexual misconduct and I simply cannot tolerate any of this madness.”_

_She stole a careful glance over her shoulder to see a vaguely familiar man walk from the forest, hand holding his cutlass steady. As the men all turned to look at this new voice. Emma acted quickly, pulling the sword from Smith’s waist, and pushing free from her captivity._

_The stranger’s eyes gleamed as he appreciated her quick thinking. “Ah, now she’s armed and I saw her prowess with a blade today, gents. I’d suggest you run along before either one of us decide to run you through,” the man stepped into the moonlight, illuminating his handsome face, blue eyes and mischievous grin. Emma’s heart skipped a beat as she realized he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on._

_She pressed the tip of her sword against Smith’s chest to emphasize the man’s point and raised her eyebrows. The men slunk off into the forest, and after a few moments passed, her heart rate slowly returned to normal as she turned to thank her savior._

_“Thank you, sir,” she quietly said as she walked to stand in front of her mysterious helper._

_“I cannot bear to see a woman’s heart harmed,” he told her, stretching out a hand in front of him. “Killian Jones, I am in your class at the Naval Academy. I, unlike those insufferable fools, was impressed by your skillset rather than intimidated.”_

_She smiled softly. “Emma. Just Emma.”_

_His eyebrow quirked slightly and tsked. “Just Emma? No last name? That won’t do. It seems fitting to have some sort of moniker… I think you’re more of a…” he trailed off, mind clicking as he looked her over. “Swan.”_

_“I have a last name!” She told him with a small laugh._

_“Yet, Swan suits you well,” he replied and gestured to the road in front of him. “Shall I accompany my fairest Lady Swan back to barrack ships of the Naval Academy?”_

_She couldn’t help roll her eyes, but her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness._

“He was by my side ever since,” she finished sadly, looking at the faces of her friends, touched by their concern. “Then, he set sail on a secret mission for his brother and I never saw him again. Until today.”

“…and he wasn’t the Killian Jones you left, but the Captain Hook everyone fears.” Graham supplied grimly.

“Killian Jones is still in there, I can feel it” she told them solemnly. “It is the right thing to do to try and help him. What he may be now doesn’t cancel out the man he was before.”

Ruby and Graham shared a long look. Graham sighed quietly and signaled to the deck hands to completely unfurl the sails, hastening their speed towards Windriville.

———-

The Golden Scarab made port at nightfall, docking near the Jolly Roger. Both Graham and Ruby were vehemently unhappy with the idea of Emma going off into the town alone.

"Captain, do you have a death wish this evening? One more than usual?" Graham shook his head as Emma fastened her dark brown cloak around her shoulders. She had changed from her standard issue Naval uniform into a simple pair of tan riding breeches and loose white tunic underneath. She was able to easily conceal both her cutlass and her flintlock under the flowing folds of the cloak.

"I’m not sure about this, Emma. I know you knew him when he was a good man, but that was a long time ago." Ruby added in quietly concerned for the woman who saved her from a brutal beating all those years ago.

Emma thought back to Killian’s eyes, hollow and deadened from pain. She thought about how she worried for days, months, years for her friend. She recalled the long nights tossing and turning as Killian Jones repeatedly haunted her dreams.

She shook her head. “We have arrived in Windriville. I promised I would be here for him. I’m not about to start breaking my promises.”

She turned to fix Graham with a steely stare. “I promised you that I would grant you safe passage from Queen Regina.”

He dropped his head, well aware how his captain had saved him from the darkness of being the Huntsman. Queen Regina was forcing him daily to serve her errands that were dark and unnatural. It was slowly ripping Graham apart before Emma found him on a mission and brought him into the Navy and away from the Evil Queen. It took her a few years until she could formally add him to her crew, but once she did, he easily fit in amongst the other sailors.

She straightened and pulled the hood of her cloak over her blonde curls. “Ruby, I promised you that you’d never have to fight off another drunken man again.” She still remembered the night that she fought off the three large men that had Ruby pinned in a dark alley in Tortuga. The smell of blood had been in the air that night, Ruby loudly proclaiming that she would rather die than have three men force themselves upon her.

Ruby reached out a hand to grasp hers, holding it carefully, concern marring her features. “I know, I just worry about you in these situations.”

"No need. I am capable of defending myself. He needs someone to bring him back into the light," she whispered. "He’s my oldest friend and a long time ago I thought…" She trailed off, catching the _I loved him_ in her throat.  
  
Ruby’s eyes widened at the unsaid implications.  With a small sigh, she nodded at Emma and released her hands.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly walked off the Golden Scarab into the dark night. Killian Jones was waiting for her.  
  
And she never broke a promise.


	3. Chapter Three

The Cantankerous Hedgehog was a dark, dank tavern on the edge of the town. It was well known as an establishment that turned a blind eye to a variety of misdeeds, yet still held some standards. It was nowhere near as low-brow and violent as some of the other pubs she had visited throughout her years navigating the realm.

 

A small shudder passed through her frame as she was reminded of the bar in Tortuga where she had rescued Ruby.

After that horrific night, the Golden Scarab never made port in Tortuga again.

The building that housed the Cantankerous Hedgehog stood, brown walls shabby and forlorn with it’s location at the very edge of town. The sounds of music and rowdy laughter punctuated the otherwise quiet evening. As Emma neared the front door, several men stumbled out, completely intoxicated.

One man’s eyes lit up at the sight of her curvaceous form walking towards them. “ _Oy!_ Now there’s a pretty lass. Why don’t you come let me spend some time with yer body.”

She grinned, a flash of white teeth in the darkened night. Her hand concealed inside her cloak instantly sprang out, her flintlock cocked and pointed directly at closest man’s chest. “I think I will pass,” her hardened voice responded. Their eyes widened instantly in fear, and instead of any further confrontation, quickly scampered off into the darkness.

Pushing open the heavy oak door of the Cantankerous Hedgehog, Emma was immediately assaulted with the heavy stench of sweat, charred meat, and lager. Several of the men from Killian’s crew were gathered around a table in the front of the tavern, hooting and cursing as they rolled a pair of dice. As promised, there were a fair amount of women sitting around the table, sitting happily on the laps of their chosen pirates. She continued scanning the room for his recognizable form, finally spotting him hunched over at a table towards the back end of the room.

The set of his shoulders and the way he scowled over his tankard of ale made it clear that he was not in the mood to socialize or play dice like the rest of his crew.  He cast aside his drink carelessly, spilling pale amber suds across the table.  A bar wench quickly arrived to clean up the mess and replace his drink, but he just waved her away with some sharp comment that made the girl jump.  Once she’d fled, he covered his face with his good hand.  By all accounts, Captain Hook looked like a man who didn’t want to be bothered by anyone in the tavern.

Except maybe her.

Her traitorous mind wanted to smile at the mere sight of him, yet she forced the thoughts away. She was having trouble remembering that she was meeting with Captain Hook, not Killian Jones, until proven otherwise.

She edged closer to him, still half concealed in the shadows of the bar.  She granted her heart one minute to stand back and admire him. Captain Hook was still the good looking, muscular man she had known as Killian Jones. She didn’t need to check under his long black coat to know that his strong, lithe body was intact as well. He had always maintained that officers and captains should be able to complete any physical task on the ship and had frequently proven officers that he was still capable. She was surprised to see that he had cut off the ponytail that he sported as a young naval officer. Admittedly, she conceded that shorter hair suited him well.

However, it was his eyes that had changed the most.  The blue twinkle of mischief that she had always associated with him had disappeared. Now, they were replaced by an ocean of loss and the burden of carrying it alone.

 _Killian, what has happened to you in these lost years?_ Her heart clenched thinking about the pain he endured.

Emma stood, leaning against the far wall observing him until he finally spotted her. Their eyes locked. Of course he could still find her in a crowded bar. He held her gaze from across the room and Emma felt the heat flare low in her belly at the sight of his piercing gaze. Finally, she could stand it no longer, and she pushed off the wall and walked to his table.

“Lost the white coat, hmm, love?” He murmured carefully as she slid onto the bench across from him, unfastening the cloak as she sat down. His greedy eyes were busy looking her up and down, admiring her white tunic when she brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I like it.”

She mentally appreciated wearing her breeches and tunic instead of her usual dryland mission dress garb. Killian’s gaze spoke volumes to her and little of it had to do with simple conversations and old friends catching up.

The thought of his gaze lingering on her made her thighs clench and her pulse race. Emma forced the wanton thoughts out of her mind.

“It helps me blend in. The Naval coat tends to… ah, add to my troubles in an establishment like this one,” she said with a casual shrug. There were stories to be told about the first time she wore her Naval coat into a bar, but that was a tale for another lifetime.

He snorted and took a slow drink from his lager before carefully setting the mug back down on the table. He gave her one last appraising glance. “You know, it’s bad form to keep a man waiting so long. Your crew clearly needs to be whipped into shape if it truly took you this long to reach Windriville. Did the sea give you trouble?”

She shook her head, refusing to take the bait.

He paused, hesitating before continuing quietly, “I’ve been waiting quite awhile for you, Emma.”

She couldn’t fight the small grin that tugged at her lips. “Killian.”

He tried not to flinch at the use of his real name as his eyes hardened marginally. “Hook will do.” Shrugging a shoulder, he attempted to smirk away the pain and took another long drink from his tankard.

She shook her head, stubbornly. “One of my oldest friends in the world is Killian Jones. Not Captain Hook,” she told him, watching his reaction.

His head drooped for a moment, before he stood, offering his good hand to her. “Come, Swan. You wanted answers. You’ll get them, but not in this dingy hellhole.” He stood patiently before her, tall and dashing in his dark leather coat.

Emma looked up at him for a long moment, her eyes carefully trained on his. She could hear Graham and Ruby’s voices in her head, pleading with her common sense.

 _Emma, you need to be careful. He’s dangerous for a reason_ , Ruby would tell her, eyes wide, thinking about her past experiences.

 _Walking off into the unknown with Captain Hook? Captain, this is not a good plan!_ Graham, ever the strategist, would want to know her exit strategy.

His blue eyes were open and earnest, holding her gaze, reminding her of the man she once knew.

“Come on, Swan. Try something new; it’s called trust,” he’d told her, so long ago. The man that she had lost was standing in front of her, needing her. There was really no other decision for her to make.  
  
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her from the tavern, out into the moonlight.


	4. Chapter Four

Emma and Killian walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, her hand tucked securely into the crook of his arm. She tried not to get distracted by the heat of his body next to hers or the feel of the leather jacket underneath her fingertips as they walked.

Their meandering path inevitably led down to the sea. The gentle crash of the ocean waves upon the shore was a natural source of comfort to them both. The full moon provided plenty of light for them to walk on the sand, neither one quite ready to start the conversation, just happy in a way, to enjoy the other’s presence.

 

As they walked, they looked the part of old friends catching up, rather than Captain Swan and Captain Hook preparing to discuss years of piracy and lawlessness. She almost wished they could shed their monikers and just be Emma and Killian.

Finally, he sighed and released her arm, looking out towards the ocean. “Are you certain you want the sordid truths of the past ten years of my life, Swan?” He asked her quietly, words tumbling over his lips in a rush.

She looked at him carefully, his shoulders were rigid, back tense. “If I don’t know what happened, Killian, then I can’t help you,” she replied truthfully.  Reaching out one hand to lay over his forearm, she met his blue eyes. “Tell me. I won’t judge you.”

He took a small, shuddering breath and started his tale. “I still remember that sunny afternoon when we last spoke, Swan, standing next to the Jewel. You were simply a vision in your pristine Ensign’s uniform. I must confess that I’m glad to see you haven’t abandoned your penchant for dressing in white.” He broke from his recollections to send a small wink in her direction. He carefully traced one finger over the collar of her tunic, before turning to face the ocean yet again, gathering his thoughts before turning back to her as he continued along.

It felt like old times when she rolled her eyes and motioned for him to continue with his tale.

“I walked aboard the Joll-, my apologies, the Jewel of the Realm and immediately told the assembled crew to begin preparations to set sail. I even confiscated rum from one of the sailors…”

“Bad form, of course.” Emma interrupted with a smile, easily remembering the Killian Jones she lost all those years ago. She could even picture him in her mind’s eye, tall and dashing in his white Lieutenant clothing as he pitched the run overboard.

“Too right, love,” he replied gloomily, the pain the loss of younger self seeping through. “Liam came to me and told me that we were on a special, secret mission for our King. Naturally, I was beyond excited at the news. A successful mission would give Liam and myself the stability we craved for the rest of our lives. It also meant I could now force my brother into accepting a certain lovely young ensign into our crew. I was quite taken in by her charms.” He looked over to where Emma was standing and gave her a small, sad smile.

Emma felt the hot blush stealing over her cheeks, she remembered how much she hated being left behind when Killian went off on his missions. He was her closest friend in the world, when he was gone, she was left alone to stew about her feelings for him. When she was working on a mission, at least, she could bury her emotions in her work.

“The King had procured an enchanted sail for the Jewel of the Realm, which enabled the ship to fly to another realm - Neverland. Swan, the ship really flew, it was bloody amazing!” His eyes lit up with wonder when he reminisced about the sail and Emma couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she smiled with him.

As he told his tale, more of the Killian Jones she remembered was seeping through. This was the man she had thought about, worried about, and pined over for ten years.

“Once reaching Neverland, Liam insisted that only he and I were allowed off ship. It was from the direct order of the King that only a few crew members would be allowed on this mission. Liam only trusted me to go with him. Apparently, we were searching for some elusive plant called ‘Dreamshade,’ and Liam believed that it was a magical healing herb.” He took a shuddering breath and turned to look off at the ocean. “It was quite the opposite actually.”

Emma felt anxiety creep into the pit of her stomach. It was clear there was no way that this could end well. Dreamshade seemed familiar to her, if she pushed her memory hard enough, it could have been in a story her mother had once told her. Possibly, it was the key ingredient in a sleeping potion when Sleeping Beauty was tricked into touching the spindle. She felt sadness creep over her, if she had been on that ship, she might have been able to warn both of them in time. She tightened her grip on Killian’s forearm.

Killian whirled to face her, eyes red and wild in the moonlight. “I begged him to think it over, that something did not seem right. I could feel it, deep down in the pit of my stomach, that the situation was all wrong.”

She considered his words carefully, thinking back ten years prior to the Killian Jones she knew in the academy. He always went with his gut instincts and she had never seen him fail before. For him to have an inkling of danger and not have Liam heed his warning, it must of rubbed his heart raw. She knew that he would have replayed this entire mission over and over in his mind, wondering what he could have done to save his brother.

Suddenly, he laughed harshly and stepped away from her, the pain of the mission still raw wound even a decade later. The words flew from his mouth faster and faster in his grief of retelling this story. “The sodding git then stabbed himself with the plant to prove me wrong! I tried to save him with this magical water, that this island boy told me about. However, I didn’t realize he could not leave the island… No one told me… It was my fault that he died. _ALL MY fault_!” His last words ended in a shout that echoed over the crash of the ocean.

Before she even considered what she was doing, Emma reached out and frantically tugged Killian into her arms. She held him tightly to her as his body shuddered and shook.  A few of his hot tears escaped down onto her neck as he swayed against her. His knees buckled in his grief and instead of fighting to hold them both steady, she allowed them to tumble down onto the sand. She pulled him close, tucking his body against hers, his head lying against her chest. Her hands tangled into his dark hair, gently stroking while she whispered soothing words into his ear.

Moments passed until he finally stilled and tried to push away from her. Her hands dug into his leather coat  as she refused to let him flee. “I’m the poison, Swan. I killed him.” He gasped out, he looked less like Captain Hook and more like the man she had lost.

“Not hardly, Jones.” She told him, hands brushing the hair out of his face. “The way I see it is that you did everything in your power to save him. You told him from the very beginning that you felt something was wrong with the situation. I’ve never known your gut to be wrong.” She could not help herself, as she tipped forward and kissed his cheek carefully, feeling the heat of his salty skin under her lips.

His hand tangled into her hair as he looked at her, breath coming in harsh puffs. “Emma,” he whispered urgently, blue eyes shining in the moonlight. His body pushed itself up higher to match hers, quickly switching their positions as he pulled her towards him into his lap. Her knees slid around his waist as he scrambled to have her closer to him. He dipped his head forward and covered his lips on hers, carefully kissing her as if she might disappear.

Emma’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch of his lips upon hers. How long had she dreamed of kissing this man.  Had reality blurred into this sweet dream?

Suddenly, his tongue traced the seam of her lips, requesting permission, always such a gentleman. She lazily parted them, never being able to deny this man anything, and suddenly his tongue was sweeping into her mouth, ravaging her for what seemed like an eternity while she moaned lightly. His hand tightened in her hair and her eyes opened with surprise as she could feel the evidence of his desire hot and hard against her. Her body was demanding more of him and she had to reign in her emotions before things got out of hand.

Pulling back gently, she cupped his cheeks in her palms. “Killian, I am so sorry that our paths didn’t cross sooner. I didn’t want to be separated from you.” She said, her pulse racing from his kiss. She was not ready to continue where their bodies were headed. One of them had to keep a level head.

At least, for the moment.

His eyes carefully regarded her flushed face and quick breathing, as a slow, sinful smile lit up his features. “Emma,” he whispered his fingers caressing her cheek for a moment before leaning back and taking a few deep breaths to center himself.

She gave him a wan smile. “The King buried all information regarding your ship, your crew and any mention of the Jones brothers.” She told him, her hands still holding his arm, not wanting him to drift further away from her, from this shared moment and the closeness that she felt. Her eyes flickered back down to his lips and she forced herself to keep talking. Even though, she wanted to spring back into his arms something fierce.

A kiss from Killian Jones was like a drug, one taste and she already craved more.

"It was almost like you never existed, but I couldn’t just let you disappear off into nothingness. I tracked you as best I could, searching port records for any ship that bore any resemblance to the Jewel of the Realm. When that turned futile, I had to use my parents official emissary to the kingdom to uncover the records of that voyage." With a flushed smile, Emma added, "let’s just say that the official version differs greatly from what you just shared. You and Liam were never sent on that mission. Instead, the report states that the Jones brothers chose to declare a mutiny and run from the crown. I didn’t believe a single word of it." She remembered vividly pouring over the documents when she finally received them, then throwing them in the fire in complete disgust at the lies they contained.

Frowning at her words, Killian ran his hand through his hair, making the ends stick up in his distress. “You’ve always been too kind to me, Swan. I’m just the nobody that happened upon the beautiful naval cadet in trouble on that fateful evening.”

She smiled shyly. “I had them right where I wanted them. No one saves me but me.”

His pleased chuckle made her heart constrict in joy. It had been too many years since she heard him laugh. “Too right, Swan.” He reached over to help her up from the sand, the material of his jacket and shirt riding up to expose his right forearm.

Emma cocked her head and looked at the inside of his arm when she spotted the flash of color. She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet before she reaching out and tracing a gentle finger along the colorful ink. “Milah?” She asked, the question weighted and heavy between them.

He froze as his eyes closed. “She was the reason behind this,” he told her as he lifted the hook up in front of them, opening his eyes carefully. “And that love, is a tale for another evening.” His face went back to the guarded expression he wore when they had their first encounter, the coldness returning to his blue eyes.

She saw the moment where he tucked Killian Jones away and Captain Hook returned. She knew that her Killian was still in there, that this Captain Hook was just a persona that he would wear… for revenge, for protection, to be anything but a grieving brother and… lover? Surely whoever this Milah was, she obviously was close to his heart to warrant such a bold tribute engraved on his skin.

Emma shivered. The night suddenly seemed much cooler as the tone of their meeting changed drastically.

"Come," he commanded, his voice deeper. "I’ll walk you back to your ship."

"And that is it? See you, Swan, in another decade?" Her voice rose in her disbelief.

He shrugged and smiled placatingly. “I am a pirate, love. What do you expect? You’re the Royal bloody Navy and I’m a devilishly handsome pirate captain. Our worlds do not mix, as much as we may want them to.”

She snorted. “Please. They mix all the time. It is simply in battle, not in friendship.” She invaded his space and poked him in the chest with her finger. “Save your lies for someone else, Jones. Do _not_ shut me out. You don’t have to be a pirate for the rest of your life.”

He looked at her, eyes hard and weary. “I chose this life the moment Liam died, Swan.”

The comment took her breath away, the cold slowly seeping deep into her heart. She could not lose him all over again. She shook her head stubbornly, hand reaching out for him. “No. _No_. Let me help you. I can help you, Killian.”

Killian shook his head as he distanced himself from her. “That’s Captain Hook, now, love. Come, princess. Let me walk you back to your ship.”


	5. Chapter Five

The walk back to their respective ships was a silent affair. Both were lost in their own thoughts and emotions as they made their trek. Emma gritted her teeth in frustration at seeing him visibly battling his own demons. He ultimately gave into the easier temptation of being Hook, rather than Killian.

Hook did not have the demons haunting him, Killian Jones obviously did. She wondered again who this Milah was and what hold she had over him. She missed her friend and hated that she received only a small glimpse of the man for whom she had spent so long searching.

Finally, they arrived at the docks. She stopped, crossing her arms over her body, her heart beating wildly in her chest, wondering what he would say.

 

He dipped his head, and sent an almost rueful glance her way. “This is where we part ways, Swan,” he said quietly, all sense of bravado gone.

She shook her head adamantly at him. “I refuse to give up on you yet, Jones.”

He snorted and scratched behind his ear for a moment. “Everyone else has, my dear.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, gently kissing her knuckles.

His lips burned her flesh at contact, her stomach clenching as she thought back to his mouth plundering hers. Emma held on to his hand and looked deep into his eyes. “Killian,” she whispered as her pulse pounded heavily in her ears.  

His blue eyes locked onto hers for a long, tender moment. Emma could see the conflict raging deep within. “Goodbye, Swan,” he murmured with a sigh. With a swirl of his leather jacket, he turned on his heel and walked off towards the Jolly Roger.

Emma stood frozen in place on the dock and watched him walk away, shoulders tight, back stiff. She wondered how she could simultaneously feel her heart break and yet, want to punch someone in the face at the same time.

Maybe, it was an emotion only reserved for him.

As she fumed, she thought back to the glimpses of the real Killian Jones she had seen on the beach. “You just wait, Jones,” she muttered as she stormed off to the Golden Scarab, a plan already forming her mind.

She had some bad news to deliver to Graham and Ruby.

———-

Graham’s eyes widened when he saw her approach the Golden Scarab and stride up the gangplank. “Captain on deck!” He shouted at the few remaining men who were diligently washing down the deck after the day’s work. The men immediately snapped to attention, frozen in a formal salute to their Captain Swan as she walked down the deck.

“At ease.” She nodded to her men to continue their work. She motioned for Graham to follow her down to her chambers.

They met Ruby in her chambers, where Emma could find the privacy she desperately needed to carry out her plan. Her instructions to Graham and Ruby were clear.

Obviously, neither one of them were thrilled about her orders and general plan. They stood in her quarters, twin frowns of disapproval firmly etched on their faces as Emma tore through her room, packing her items into a small bag. The window for her plan was rapidly shrinking and she could not afford to waste time arguing with Ruby and Graham over her life choices.

She heard Graham take a deep breath from across the room and she inwardly groaned, knowing what was coming.

“Emma,” he took two steps forward looked at her imploringly, brown eyes begging. “As your friend, I’m pleading with you to let that man go his separate way. He’s well known throughout the many realms for murdering, pillaging and destroying countless lives. The man you knew is gone. Only Captain Hook remains.”

“We want you to be safe and he doesn’t feel safe to me,” Ruby added from her perch on Emma’s desk.

Finally, Emma stopped tossing items into her travel bag, straightened and stared them down, looking every inch of the captain she was. “I am going. He will not hurt me. I trust him.” She looked up from her packing and looked over to Ruby. “I need to borrow your black cloak.”

Ruby gave a small huff as she reached back and untied the dark garment from her frame. “This means you have to come back, you know. This is my best cloak.”

Emma smiled at her friend as Ruby walked over and fastened it securely over her shoulders. She slung her bag across her back and pulled the hood over her head. “Gather the crew and leave as soon as possible. I will meet you back at this port in ten days.”

Graham opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “That’s an order, Lieutenant.” He sighed and reached out to clasp her arm briefly, his simple way of saying good-bye, before climbing the ladder out of her quarters.

After Graham left the cabin, Ruby was suddenly at her side, grabbing her friend and hugging her tightly. “Be safe, Emma. Bring him back to the light.”

She smiled tightly and tightened her embrace. “I will do my very best, Ruby. I know he’s a good man. I just have to convince _him_ of that little fact.”

—————-

Sticking to the shadows, Emma made her way off the Golden Scarab and to the gangplank of the Jolly Roger. Luckily, she knew that the majority of the crew would still be back at the Cantankerous Hedgehog, probably entertaining a few willing wenches by now.

The night was silent, save for the splashing of the ocean against the docks and her light breathing as she crouched in the darkness across from the Jolly Roger, mentally planning the most strategic way onto the ship. Carefully, she slipped off her heavy boots and tucked them into her bag. It would be easier for her to creep by any remaining crew if she was only in her stocking feet. She glanced about, peeking around the large wooden crates. Satisfied that no one was looking, she started her methodical, hidden trek on board the Jolly Roger.

She scuttled from one large barrel to the next, ducking and hiding behind crates, nervous that a random crew member would spot her. She needed to tuck herself safely away in his quarters, safe from the crew and to only be seen by him.

Emma knew that Captain Hook was still a good man. However, she would not vouch for the souls of the rest of his crew. They could possibly mutiny and throw them both into the sea if provoked. That would get them nowhere.

She had to play her cards absolutely right on this. There was little room for error.

Her stocking-clad feet padded gently on the wood of the Jolly Roger as she reached the opening to his quarters. Was it only this morning when she stormed down this ladder under the invitation of a ‘parlay?’ _It seemed like a lifetime ago_ , she marveled as she stole down the ladder like a thief in the night. Killian Jones had taken her life by storm, yet again.

Both feet hit the floor in a quiet thump as she reached her goal, his private quarters. The smell of rum assaulted her senses as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room.

She based her plan on her assumption that he would go back to the Cantankerous Hedgehog to distract himself from the evening. They laid bare too many truths in one evening. The miserable facts had Emma contemplating having a few herself to ease the overwhelming feelings of despair.

However, she had not counted on seeing him passed out cold in his bed, a bottle of rum dangling precariously from his slim fingers. His leather jacket was flung over his desk chair, dark red vest on top of that, leaving him clad in his black button down shirt. She quickly swallowed her startled gasp, and carefully inched closer to him, her stocking-clad feet gliding over the smooth floor of his quarters to inspect him. When she was finally standing next to him, the smell of stale sweat and alcohol assailed her senses. His body simply reeked from the alcohol.  She figured that he probably spilled a fair amount of it on himself as he drank away his pain.

“Oh _Killian_ ,” she murmured, fingertips burning to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, “I’m so sorry.”

“ _Emma_ ,” he moaned lightly in his sleep, almost as if he knew she was near. His body was laid out, spread eagle on his narrow bunk, long sinewy limbs draped over the edges of the mattress.

Emma reached out and plucked the dangling rum bottle from his hand, setting it on the floor quietly. She let her hand gently trace down the edge of his arm, a soothing caress for the man she cared about. It was difficult not to curl up beside him to help him placate the demons stirring in his soul. Did he have anyone to hold him when his brother died? No matter how much he might have changed, she still missed him and wanted to be there for him.

However, waking up next to an almost certainly hungover and possibly grumpy Captain Hook was not on her agenda, no matter how tempting his kiss might have been.

She had a few hours until the dawn, so she looked around the tiny captain’s chambers, searching for a hiding spot. She finally tucked herself into a small cabinet and settled down to wait patiently until she could make her next move. Granted, it was a tight fit, but with her knees drawn up against her chest, there was just enough room for her.

Luckily, it wasn’t the first time that she had to stay awake all night for a mission. Through the crack in the cabinet door, she quietly watched the moonlight shimmer over the water and looked at Killian, lightly snoring, passed out in his bed. He looked more like his younger self and again the temptation to join him was overwhelming, her mind drifting back to the kiss they had shared earlier in the evening. Her stomach curled lazily at the thought of his body melded to hers, his lips moving against hers.

 _Gods, Emma. Get a hold of yourself, woman. Now is not the time to be thinking about how good of a kisser Killian Jones turned out to be_. She chided herself firmly, her inner voice sounding suspiciously like Ruby.

As the moon moved through the sky, she was able to see a glimpse of the Golden Scarab gliding through the water, white sails unfurled in the night. Emma let out a small sigh of relief, Graham must have worked quickly to get all the men back to the ship and leave port. Phase one of her plan was working perfectly, now she had to rely on her own wits to complete phase two.

As the sun finally started to rise over the horizon, Emma tucked herself deeper into her cabinet as much as she possibly could, her back pushing against the wood. She mentally thanked Ruby again for her cloak, pulling it over her knees, tucking her blonde hair back into the hood. Her leg muscles screamed in protest as they tingled from hours of hiding, cramping painfully as she curled inward. It was dawn, and if there was anything she knew about Killian Jones…

Emma held her breath, her eyes peeking through the tiniest slit in the cabinet woodwork.

“Oy, bloody hell.” He muttered with a soft moan from his bunk, sitting up slowly, running his hand through his unruly dark hair. He stretched his muscles slowly, her mouth slightly watering at the sight of him moving with the sunlight at his back. He blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings for a brief moment.

He mustn’t discover her, not yet.

His eyes narrowed, casting about the room for a moment before he shook his head. “Must be the rum,” he said as he stood and pulled on his vest, deftly buttoning the garment one handed. It only took him mere moments to right his clothing, run a hand through his tousled hair and stomp back up the ladder, yelling, “Oy, Smee! Awaken the crew, it’s time to leave this godforsaken port!”

She listened to his boots click up his ladder and finally let out the breath that she had been tentatively holding. Silently, she waited patiently as she watched the sun rise higher into the sky, waiting for the telltale signs of a ship leaving port. Her heart beat slightly faster, the risk of discovery was great, especially if she was found before the ship left port. He would easily drop her off on the docks if the Jolly Roger was still in Windriville.

Out on the open ocean, however… it would be a little more difficult to get rid of her.

Finally, she could feel the ship rock heavily as the anchor was lifted. Still watching from her cabinet, Emma could see the ocean moving past the small windows of Killian’s cabin.

She slipped out of the cabinet and set about changing out of her black cloak. Pulling her white captain’s jacket from her bag, she pulled it over her long white chemise. With a deep breath, she wriggled out of her tan breeches, tossing them in her bag and pulled on her tall black boots over her white stockings. The chemise fell nicely to mid-thigh and the boots came up over her knees, her hair was in golden blonde curls around her face. She reattached her flintlock pistol and cutlass to her hips to complete her “captainly” look.

Phase two of her plan, he could not throw her overboard looking like this. Catching him unawares would give her an advantage, even if only a momentary one.  
  
Now, crossing her arms and leaning against a post in his quarters, all she had to do was wait for him to return.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all the kudos and kind comments! Reviews are always appreciated! You can also hit me up on tumblr - I'm justren21. Thanks!

Emma watched the ocean from her vantage point in Killian’s cabin, idly counting birds to pass the time. She knew the time it would take him to make his rounds of the ship, checking to see if everyone was completing their assigned duties.

Pirate or Royal Navy, captaining a ship still needed a diligent hand.

_“Swan!” Killian shouted at her from across the naval training ship. “Stop daydreaming and get over here!”_

_She hurried to his side and stood next to him, stiffly awaiting his command. “Lieutenant?”_

_He swept his arm to the scenery around him. “One day, you’ll captain your own ship.” He grinned down at her huff of irritation and accompanying eye roll. “Yes, Swan, you will have your own ship eventually. Even though the view each and every morning will take your breath away, there are still crucial tasks to be completed.”_

_She nodded her head, mentally running down the memorized checklist. “I have already been informed of the ship’s condition from the boatswain, and I have spoken to the gunner to check on the inventory of our armory, sir.”_

_His lips tugged upward in the briefest of smiles. “Good form, Swan. You are well on your way to captaincy.” He cast a look at the sun rising over the water. “You never know what each new day will bring, despair or greatness, misery or joy. Yet, with each sunrise…”_

_“...anything is possible.” She finished for him, a small wink sent in his direction. Every morning, she heard his sunrise speech and every morning, she enjoyed listening to it, nonetheless. It was one of the many things she enjoyed about her favorite Lieutenant._

The heavy tread of his boots on the ladder alerted her that he was making his way down into his quarter’s, his morning routine finished for now. She turned from the window, and drew herself up, shoulders back, head tall.

His feet hit the floor.

“You never know what each new day will bring, despair or greatness, misery or joy. Yet, with each sunrise…” she quietly recited, breaking the silence before he turned to face her.

“...anything is possible.” He finished automatically and then let his head fall heavily against one of the rungs of the ladder. “Bloody hell, Swan! What the...” He tried not to shout as he spun around to face her.

The words died in his throat as he looked at her. His eyes raked over her white chemise flowing down around her thighs, tall black books, her white captain jacket draped across her shoulders. His tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips as he let his gaze linger on her naked thighs.

She lifted her chin in defiance, secretly pleased with his reaction. “You cannot be rid of me that easily Jones. You forget, I’m in this for the long haul.”

Killian’s mouth snapped closed as he took one last glance at her. With a long suffering sigh, he shook his head, clearing his thoughts, before stomping around her to his desk. Emma let him dig through the drawers for a few minutes before catching his eye with an impish grin.

“Lass… Where is my rum?” He asked calmly, taking a deep breath because a part of him already knew the answer.

“Gone. Bad form,” she replied cheekily, enjoying needling him as he erupted in a series of colorful curses. Emma chuckled. What erupted from his mouth was quite entertaining, she might have to save some of those colorful phrases for herself. “I cannot have any serious conversations with a man that drowns his sorrows in drink at nightfall.”

Killian exhaled through his nose angrily. “Drown my sorrows!” He erupted with a shout, stalking dangerously  closer to her. “You do not know anything about sorrows. Bloody buggering hell, I should throw your ass - as lovely as it may be - off my fucking ship and be done with this madness.” He invaded her personal space, vibrating with anger, glaring down at Emma.

She refused to back down as she shrugged casually. “I highly doubt that, Captain.” Planting her hands on her hips, she glared back at the man, refusing to be cowed by his proximity.

“Perhaps, I’ll just toss you out of my cabin and let my men have their way with you,” he snapped back, a flush coming over his skin as his eyes once again roamed over her clothing. “Despite your attire, love, I can play the part of a gentlemen… My men, on the other hand… Well, I fear my men might have other ideas.” His gaze lingered on her bare thighs and brief shift she was wearing. His hook flashed out to trace down the slender strap of her snow white chemise as she remained frozen in place, mind processing the thinly veiled threat.

Pulling in a deep breath, she took a step closer, harshly poking him in the chest with her finger. She focused on her anger, letting it radiate off of her in waves. “Full circle, huh, _Captain Jones_? A long time ago you saved me from being attacked by a group of men. I find it interesting that now you’re planning on hand delivering me to a mob of randy pirates?”

His eyes widened slightly, remembering the fateful night of their first meeting.

“Liam would be _ashamed_ ,” she hissed the words tumbled from her lips unchecked, delivering a painful final blow.

A bellow of rage tore from his throat and Emma stepped back, worrying that she had pushed him too far. He whirled away from her and grabbed a book from his desk, throwing it across the cabin. “You don’t think I am not aware of that fact, Swan? That when I close my eyes at night I can’t see him, hear him -- only _feel_ his disapproval? That the continuous failure which is my life does not haunt me every night? That the only thing that quiets the damned demons is the rum that you threw away?” He grabbed several more books off the shelves and threw them across the room furiously before driving his hook into a post.

Remorse flooded through Emma’s veins as tears filled her eyes. “Oh gods, Killian… I’m...”

He worked his hook out from the post and glared at her. “Shut it! You wanted to see the monster that I’ve become? Tame him? Soothe him back into the shell of the man that you knew?” He advanced back towards Emma, eyes wild, stalking her like prey in the small cabin. “Killian Jones is dead and no one, not even you, Princess Emma, can bring him back.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, holding his gaze.

They were back to their original position, nose to nose, neither willing to back down. Only this time, Emma’s eyes were filling with tears and he was sucking in harsh breaths, body shaking with barely restrained anger.

A long, tense moment passed, only their breathing echoing through the room. She could feel the lone tear cascade down her cheek in a mutinous display of her emotions. His eyes flicked down to her cheeks as she continued to hold her stance towards him.

With one final angry glare, he spun away from her and climbed back up the ladder.

The sharp slam of the top hatch made her eyes drift close with defeat. Emma’s tears silently spilled down her cheeks as she mentally berated her choice of impulsive words.

_Disarm with a light approach, Swan._

When it was abundantly clear that he was not returning any time soon and that she could not give chase, exhaustion from her sleepless night watch suddenly clouded her vision. Emma walked across the room in a miserable fog, pulling off her flintlock and cutlass and dropping them to the floor. She crawled into his bed, despair quickly lulling her to into an uneasy sleep.

\--------------------------

She awoke with a start, many hours later, disoriented. Cocooned in a tangle of linens, Emma slowly blinked at the ceiling as the past few days came rushing back. She took stock of her decisions, taking in the utter madness of her choices over the past forty-eight hours.

She could hear Graham’s knowing voice in her head saying, _Maybe you should listen to us more often, Captain._

She honestly had believed that Killian was lost to her forever after she learned of his mutiny.  

This was her second chance.

For him. For her.

For both of them.

Neither path before her now was easy. However, for them to be reunited meant something.

Her mother had always been a strong believer in fate. _She frequently told her, Emma, the first time I met your father, I smashed a rock in his face. Sometimes there are much stronger things at work in the universe. People are put into your life for a reason._

Suddenly, Emma heard light breathing and realized that she was not alone in the cabin. She took stock of her situation and remembered that she was unarmed. Out of habit, her hand started to creep slowly under the covers for the flintlock that she had left haphazardly on the floorboards. She must have been exhausted and out of her mind to not keep her flintlock handy.

“You don’t need that love.” His silken voice broke the silence in the semi-darkness.

Emma sat up, blinking as her eyes searched him out of the darkness. Finally, she found him, sitting quietly in his desk chair, one long leg propped up on the desk. His black leather jacket was once again folded neatly over the back of his chair.  His fingers drummed lightly on his desk, blue eyes trained on her.

Embarrassment flooded through her veins. She started to shift her body to move out of his bed, when his quiet voice interrupted her again.

“Swan, I’ve waited fifteen years to watch you awaken in my bed. Allow me to enjoy the moment awhile longer, hmm?”

His voice was sinfully smooth, making her forget why they needed to talk as she felt her body flush. The soothing tones made her want to invite him to join her instead of dealing with the pain of their past. Emma bit her lip as she carefully rearranged the covers around her, rubbing at her sore, swollen eyes. “Killian… I am sorry…” She started to apologize, remembering the bitter, hateful words that left her lips.

He shook his head slightly, dismissing her apology with a wave of her hand. “No need. I… overreacted a tad this morning. I knew I smelled your perfume when I awoke.” He gave her a rueful grin, “Blamed the rum.”

She felt the corners of her mouth tug upward in a small smile. “I once knew a handsome Lieutenant that told me it was bad form to have it, when I tried to smuggle rum into my bunk at the naval academy.”

“Perhaps, he wanted to share some with her, but didn’t know how to proceed in doing so.”

Her eyebrows raised as she processed his comment. She always thought her feelings for him fifteen years ago had been mostly one-sided, a simple girl with a hopeless crush on the gorgeous, older Lieutenant. “Killian…”

He stood suddenly, a steaming bowl held tightly in his good hand as he walked towards the bed. “Here. Eat.” Her instinct as a captain was to politely decline, to tell him that she wasn’t hungry, to not show any weakness. However, her instincts were quickly overruled by the loud grumble of her stomach as the stew’s aroma assailed her. Emma could feel the slight embarrassed blush creep up over her cheeks.

Killian raised an eyebrow at her at the sound of her stomach. “Ah… There’s the girl I remember, always hungry.” He grinned as he handed her the bowl before returning back to his desk.

It was a thoughtful gesture and reminiscent to the man she knew.

“Thanks.” She told him as she held the bowl of stew and carefully sat up in his bed, crossing her legs under the covers. The simple meal was quite delicious and as she thought about it methodically, it had been at least a day since she had bothered to eat anything. It didn’t take long as she quickly ate the stew before her, feeling more like herself with food in her belly.

“Why did you come back to the Jolly Roger?” He asked her, as she was busy scraping the sides of the bowl with her spoon.

Putting the bowl off to the side table adjacent to his bed, Emma considered him for a long moment before responding. She took in his tired blue eyes _almost_ hidden behind the kohl, slightly drooping shoulders, tense words. For someone who remembered him _before_ , the changes were clear as day. “I refuse to be another person that leaves you.” She replied to his question simply.

His quiet exhale spoke volumes. Standing abruptly, he dragged his chair across the room to sit closer to her in his bed. Killian locked his gaze on her, his hand and his hook tucked under his chin in thought. “I wouldn’t fault you if you did.” He replied, his voice low and rough, as if reliving the moments of loss.

Curiosity got the better of her as she leaned over, fingertips carefully dancing along the silver curve of his hook. The metal felt cold and hard under her touch, but his eyes widened at her bold gesture. Their eyes met briefly, before she looked away in embarrassment. “How… Did it hurt?” A hot blush stole over her cheeks as she realized the forwardness of her question. “I’m sorry, Killian. I shouldn’t be asking such a personal question…”

He ducked his head in shame, not wanting to tell the sordid tale of the loss of his hand. “It was such a dark time in my life, Emma. To tell this tale, to bring it back into the light…” He trailed off, not meeting her inquisitive gaze. A long minute passed before he sighed and looked back up into her wide green eyes. He knew then, deep in his soul, he could never deny this woman anything.

“It began like most tales do…” He paused briefly, gathering his thoughts and words before continuing on, the words painfully tumbling from his lips. “It began with a woman.” His voice sounded hollow, bereft of emotion.

“Milah.” She breathed, her heart constricting tightly in her chest.  
  
A worn, wan smile appeared on his lips, but did not meet his eyes. “Aye, love. Milah.”


	7. Chapter 7

Killian looked at the rumpled princess curled up in his bed for a long moment before starting his tale. “Milah blew into my life like a tempest, blasting everything I had previously known asunder. I had given myself to the pirate lifestyle for only two years when we made port in a small village.”

Emma nodded. 

“It was a normal night, my men and I were at some pub of ill repute, where women and drinks abounded. Then, she walked into the pub…” His voice faltered. “Everything changed.”

Tentatively, she reached out a cautious hand and rested it on his knee. A part of her heart broke, not for him but for herself. She had always pined away for the man she had lost, it was clear that it was not the same for him.

He raked his fingers through his dark hair, and when he dropped down his hand, it landed on hers.  He entwined his fingers with hers without seeming to consciously think about it.  "Milah was older--vibrant--and, well... confident in what she wanted."  The corner of his mouth turned up briefly in a look Emma could easily recognize.

“You.”  Emma whispered.  It wasn’t a question.  

“Aye.” He took a deep breath and then soldiered on. “What she did not mention, at least not at first… She was married.”

Emma chewed her lip carefully at this tidbit of news.

He breathed out, looking at his fingers wrapped around hers.  His brow tightened for a moment, but he didn’t withdraw his hand. “As much as I played the part of a pirate captain for the crew, I was still woefully out of my element. I guess Lieutenant Jones was quite resistant to change.” He said with a wry smile on his lips, squeezing her fingers gently.

Emma returned the expression briefly, but her eyes stayed serious.

Killian’s eyes focused on something far distant to Emma’s left.  “She proposed an arrangement of sorts. I would take her aboard my ship, take her away from her dull, ordinary life for a life of adventure. In exchange, she would help teach me the ways and actions of becoming a pirate. ‘A true pirate,’ she claimed. One that would inspire fear and shake the hearts of all men.”

Emma frowned.  She was beginning to get an idea of where the story was headed.

He shrugged, “It seemed like a reasonable trade. However, she neglected to inform me of the husband that she was running from. A nasty piece of work, he was.”  He shook his head with a grimace.

Emma pursed her lips not trusting herself to speak just yet.

Killian sighed before continuing.  “We spent five years together. At first, it was a simple arrangement. She slowly took apart Lieutenant Jones and built up the fearsome Pirate Captain Jones in his place. I helped her stay away from her husband and led her on many magnificent adventures.” He hesitated, his blue eyes shamefully dropping to the floorboards.

Emma was no fool and could easily see what came next in his story. “You fell in love with her.” She knew that heady feeling - months on the open ocean could easily drive a man or woman into the first set of arms they encountered. She was no naive virgin, but she'd never given more than a few nights to a man, not after Killian had disappeared and took her heart with him.

“Aye.” He whispered, his brow furrowed.  His voice sounded weary and laced with pain. “It seemed a natural course…” He paused for a long moment, eyes looking out the cabin window, trapped in the painful memories.

“Killian. I understand. I know what it is like to be alone.” She squeezed his fingers, attempting to keep the melancholy out of her voice.

His eyes snapped back to hers, quickly reading in between the lines like no other could in her life. “So, you and your Lieutenant then.” Killian replied with a touch of derision, taking in the surprised look on her face.

Emma chuffed and shook her head. “Graham.” She would rather not discuss her disastrous interlude with her earnest Lieutenant.

His eyes narrowed. “So, that’s the wanker’s name. Hmph.”  He sneered, examining his hook briefly before returning to look her in the eye. “Tell me more.”

“Graham and I… Well, lets just say it was fleeting. Very fleeting, which was fine by me.”  She bit back her grin at his jealous behavior. "Anyway, this isn't my tale, Jones. This is yours, so keep going."

He raised an eyebrow at her.  "A captain never forgets, Swan. I'm going to hear more about your dalliance with this Graham later."

Emma snorted and shook her head.  “If that’s what you want.  But not tonight.  Finish your own story.  Please?”  She gave him a small, encouraging smile.

Killian frowned for a moment, then he nodded.  “My relationship with Milah.  It… worked.  She and I did well, and my reputation grew. Our men became rich with the fortune plundered from captured ships. My name spread far enough to pass the ears of a certain jealous husband.” His lips tightened into a thin line.

“Oh, no.”  Emma put her free hand over her mouth. Her stomach churned with anxiety for him.

He gave a sardonic little smile.  “While my crew was gaining their fortunes, this husband had accumulated a fair amount of wealth for himself over the past five years and was able to use this newfound fortune to hunt us down. He found us one night in a tavern and challenged me to a duel.  I’d had a bit to drink and you well know I’m fair with a sword, so I accepted.”

“He beat you?”  Emma could barely believe it.  There hadn’t been many at the academy - students or instructors - who could best Killian Jones with a sword. Even with her additional lengthy training from her father’s best instructors of the realm, she never won a practice duel against him.

“He cheated.” Killian sneered, his jaw clenching.  His eyes flashed dangerously as he remembered the moment.  “I told Milah to stay in the tavern, but she insisted on watching. Damned woman, she never listened to reason. He feigned a lunge at me and turned on her instead.  He would have struck her if I hadn’t gotten between them.”

“That’s how you lost your hand.” Emma’s forehead creased.  It was one thing to hear your lost love had fallen for another woman.  It was something else entirely to hear he’d endangered himself for her and had paid a dear price as well.

“Aye.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes angrily glancing to his hook.  “The pain made me drop my sword, and he kicked it away.  He stepped over me to get at Milah, and I saw a loose fishing gaff lying on the dock.  I took it up, and I buried it in his neck. He bled out in mere seconds.”

Emma kept completely still.  She knew he must consider himself a murderer, despite the fact that he’d been protecting someone. “Was that the first time…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

His face contorted in pain and he closed his eyes.  “Aye. Milah bid me keep the hook.  She made my first brace so I could wear it as a sign of my _vengeful wrath_. She quickly came up with my new name as well - _Hook_.”  His lips twisted in disgust.

Emma’s heart broke for the man sitting forlornly in front of her. Throughout his tale, she finally saw her Lieutenant Jones shining through. A man that had been pushed and forced into this feared moniker, this Captain Hook persona. She leaned forward, using her free hand to tip his chin upward and gently kissed his stubbled cheek. “Killian.” She said firmly.

He met her gaze with a note of confusion, blinking hard, for the way she said his name.

“Your name is Killian.”

He looked at her with wonderment in his eyes. “I’ve been a murderer, thief and pirate for an entire decade, love. How can you have so much faith in a hopeless man?” 

She smiled, squeezing his hand again. “You must always have hope. My mother taught me that. Someone steered you away from the light. I just wish I could have been there for you.”

“Lass, I went willingly down that path. There’s no one to blame but me.”

With a stern shake of her head, Emma frowned at him. “I have a few other people to blame before I blame you. So, what happened to Milah?”

“Gone.” His short curt answer was surprising given their relationship.

“As in... dead?”

His laugh was a sharp bark of pain. “As in left the ship, and me, high and dry. It seems that some other pirate made a better offer of riches and adventure. She happily turned the local authorities on us to buy herself and her new pirate beau more time to flee port.” He looked up at her for a moment. “I was sentenced to hang for my crimes. She even managed to plant treasure in my jacket, to convince everyone of my guilt. Thankfully, my crew was a spot more loyal than she, and they rescued me mere moments before I sent to the gallows.”

Emma’s eyes widened as both her hands clenched in fury, even squeezing his good hand tightly. Milah abandoned him, left him to be captured and almost killed.

Milah had a darkened jail cell with her name on it, at the very least, if Emma had any say in this matter.

She let her gaze drift down to his exposed forearm. “Then, why did you get that tattoo?”

“To remind myself to never trust anyone, to never love again.” He responded, bitterness tinging his voice.

“Not everyone is like Milah.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes it only takes one to learn a hard enough lesson.”

Chewing her lip, Emma thought about his words carefully. “Yet, according to my parents, it all changes when you find the right one.”

Killian’s eyes finally met hers and held their gaze. “I’ve been alone ever since. I am a clear poison to the people who surround me. I have become quite adept at keeping people at bay, love. Well, apparently everyone except for a very stubborn blonde captain of the Royal Navy.”

She grinned at him. “I’ve heard she can be quite difficult, Jones.”

“Especially when this lass seems to enjoy stowing away on my ship. Tell me, Swan, when exactly did you board my ship?” He asked, turning his hand and looking at their still entwined fingers.

“Ah, I will never divulge my secrets.” A coy smile lit her face as she demurely turned her head. She tugged on their entangled fingers, pulling him towards his bed. “C’mere.”

Killian’s eyebrows nearly raised off of his forehead in disbelief as she continued to tug at him. His eyes darted around the room, nervous, yet not opposed either.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Not like that, you letch.” She couldn’t help the teasing tone flow through her words. “I was thinking that maybe, I could help you fall asleep tonight without the copious amounts of rum.”

It was his turn to chuff as he slid into his bed, his body warm next to hers. “A lovely thought, Swan. However, I assure you that it is simply not possible.”

“Humor me?”

He unwound their fingers to go to his hooked arm, efficiently undoing the various clasps and buckles that held his hook’s harness in place. The gleaming hook detached with a click, and he pulled the hook from his arm, letting it clatter to the floor with a clang. Killian shifted his body, settling down into his bed, curling his left arm over his eyes.

After a long silent moment, he moved his arm a fraction and peeked over at her, wrinkling his nose at her. “See, not even tired in the slightest.”

She smiled warmly at him, feeling the connection flare between them, almost like he was never gone. “Here,” she said as she tugged on his shirt, “move down and let me try to help.”

He looked at her placatingly, yet still did what he was told.

Emma took a deep breath and carefully reached her hands out, placing her fingertips at his temples. “Close your eyes and think happy thoughts,” she whispered, as she applied pressure and began to rub small, soothing circles. A wordless tune, something her mother used to sing, left her lips as she started to hum softly.

She could feel the tension start to leave his body as she worked, hands caressing him, loving him in a way that she couldn’t really express with words. As the minutes passed, his breathing started to even out and when she checked, sure enough, he was fast asleep. Emma couldn’t help but take the time to admire his sleeping form, since she was denied the previous night. His face looked much younger as he slept, long eyelashes fluttering slightly as she continued to press her fingertips to his temples. 

She was able to stay awake for a few hours after Killian nodded off, thanks to her mid-day nap and sheer stubborn determination. Content to simply watch him sleep next to her, Emma immediately spotted when his eyes began to flicker beneath his lids and his body suddenly tensed.

Nightmare.

His body tossed, a frown gracing his lips. “Liam.” He moaned, free hand flexing and grasping in his sleep. The despair and agitation clearly present for all to see.

Emma slipped in closer, tucking her body against his. “Shhhh.” She soothed, hands running over his chest. “It’s Emma. I’m here. Killian, please, it’s me.”

He continued to thrash, cries of “Liam” falling from his lips, as Emma tried to soothe him in vain. It seemed that nothing was able to get through to him in the throws of his nightmare. She racked her brain, thinking of anything that she could do, something that could pull him free.

With a sudden burst of inspiration, she pulled herself level to him, cradled his face in her hands and lowered her lips to his. Please let this work, she prayed. You deserve one peaceful night of sleep, Killian.

He instantly froze, and after a long moment, his lips moved slightly against hers. Emma could not help but lave his lower lip with her tongue for a brief indulgence. 

Suddenly, different type of moan left his lips, as he sleepily opened his mouth to tangle his tongue against hers. Killian mumbled against her lips as his hand grazed her back, gently cupping her arse, his fingers pressed possessively into her flesh as he pulled her to him tightly.

“Emma.” He finally sighed sleepily, all traces of his nightmare vanished in the haze of desire.

She smiled, pulling back and peppering lighter kisses on his neck. Her body hummed in excitement, desperate to do more, to ravish the man next to her. However, her mind still knew, despite the fog of want, that this was not the time. She pulled away and rested her head on his chest, his arm still tight around her.

It didn’t take much longer, listening to the crash of the water against the hull of the ship, the deep, even breathing of the man under her ear, before Emma let herself slip into sleep - simply content to be next to him.

She vaguely remembered him slipping away from their warm tangle of sheets at sunrise, warm lips ghosting over her cheek. “Sleep, love. I’ll be back after the morning routines.” Killian whispered, his hand threading through her hair spread out on his pillow before he quietly left the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a little twist on the Milah story! I hope you liked it - feedback would be lovely! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful artwork featured in this chapter is by the amazing Eatencrow over on Tumblr!

Emma woke up to sunlight streaming into Killian’s quarters, slowly warming the otherwise cold cabin. Stretching her legs, she looked around for a moment before remembering the press of his lips to her forehead earlier this morning.

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she thought about him, swinging her legs out of his bed and slipping from its warmth.

It took her a few moments to clean up, locate his fresh water basin and tie her hair back while she washed. She pulled her jacket and trousers on, then waited for his return. However, after mulling through his scattering of books adorning the walls and inspecting the trinkets meticulously lined up on his desk, Emma knew that she could not spend one more moment cooped up in the cabin.

She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment, restlessly looking up at the ladder that led to the top deck. Her decision probably was not a wise-one, one born of impatience and impetuousness, but she simply could not see spending eight more days holed up in his cabin without a reprieve.  She quickly located her flintlock and cutlass, securely strapping them on to her side before taking a deep breath and climbing up the ladder that led out of his cabin.

With each rung, the smell of the sea and seeing him beckoned to her.

None of the crew immediately noticed her appearance on deck, except for Killian, who stiffened from his place at the wheel. Emma grinned conspiratorially up at him as she started to make her way to the ship’s helm.

“Cap’n! The ship now be a-sailin’ at full speed!” One sailor called out from the crow’s nest, while the other men carried on with their normal duties. Emma continued to quietly move towards Killian, hoping to reach his side before she was seen.

“Oy! Captain! What in the bleedin’ ‘ell is this?” A brash voice called out from behind her, as she felt his hand clamp down on her forearm.

Emma turned to face the man, shaking his hand from her body as she took a step backwards. Her hand quickly went to her cutlass, but did not remove it from its sheath just yet.

“Figgins! Man the helm.” Killian called as he hastily strode down from his place at the wheel, deftly maneuvering himself next to Emma. His eyes slid over to meet hers. “Blast it Swan, had to come up and stir up trouble, hmmm?” He murmured before looking back to the sailor that found her.

She smirked back over at him and shrugged. “You know me.”

By now, the majority of the crew had gathered in front of Killian and Emma. “Captain!” Another crew member called, “That wench looks familiar!”

“Aye!” A rowdy agreement arose from the men.

Killian refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “This is Captain Swan from the Golden Scarab. She is aboard the Jolly Roger as my invited guest. If any of you bilge rats have a problem with her presence…” He trailed off and gave a meaningful look overboard. “...well, I hope you can tread water.”

A tall man, with sandy blonde hair and a menacing leer, stepped forward. “Cap’n. She’s a liability, at best. A spy at worst.” He sneered down at Emma. “Probably doesn’t even know how to use that fancy gun and sword strapped to her hips.”

Killian took a stride forward, his cutlass removed from his hip in a blink of an eye. The tip of the metal was touching the ratty cloth covering the sailor. “Culliford.” Killian growled. “Best re-think your assessment of my honored guest.”

The man growled lightly, but nodded his agreement as he looked away from his Captain’s angry glare.

Emma pursed her lips as she considered the tall man at the wrong end of Killian’s sword. “Perhaps we can engage in a friendly duel to prove my worth on this ship?” she asked him, her voice clear and firm.

Both men looked at her in complete surprise. Emma couldn’t help but grin.

“If I can best you, Culliford is it? Then, you and the rest of the crew will tolerate my presence for the remainder of my time on board. If you can best me, then I shall take my leave immediately.” Emma cocked her head sideways at Culliford and looked at the slightly unhappy expression on Killian’s face. “Well then. What’s your choice?” She challenged.

Killian glowered at Culliford from his position on deck. “The key word there - mate - is friendly duel.” He looked over the rest of his crew, some members looking positively gleeful at the idea. “And for the rest of you, no interference. I haven’t had to use the cat o’nine tails in eight years, I’d hate to have to use it now.”

The men nodded their agreement.

Killian turned his concern over to Emma, who was calmly pulling her golden hair back with a bit of ribbon. “Swan.” His voice was a warning, throwing caution to her hasty decision. His concerned eyes told her that he didn’t want her participating in this ‘duel.’

“I would not have proposed this deal if I was not confident that I could handle myself, Jones.” She rolled her neck lightly and stretched her arms. “I’ve kept up my practice. As I recall, the only person I couldn’t beat at the Academy was you.”

His mouth set in a tight grim line. “Regardless of that fact, it does not mean I am happy about this.”

She reached across her body to pull her cutlass out with her left hand, curling her fingers around the hilt while turning her body to face Culliford, her weight distributed on the balls of her feet. Her eyes flickered over to where Killian was standing, a small slight smile playing on his lips at the sight of her cutlass in her left hand.

 _That man never misses one of my tricks_ , she thought dryly.

Emma tore her gaze away from the blue eyes of her dashing pirate captain and looked into Culliford’s narrowed brown ones, waiting for the other man to make his first move.

Culliford took an experimental step forward, his cutlass ringing off of hers as he swiped at her. She quickly leaned back to avoid the blow aimed at taking off her head. Emma shuffled her feet to the right, turning to keep her body aligned with Culliford’s. He attempted again to knock back her sword, only to be denied yet again by a twist of Emma’s wrists.

Emma couldn’t help it, but she smiled at Culliford, tight and mocking as she took a little bow. “Better than you expected?”

Her father always called sword fighting “dancing with blades” and as the battle progressed, Emma marveled how he was so very right. Keeping her steps light and nimble, she easily danced away from Culliford’s advances, moving across the deck of the Jolly with ease. Her wrists flicked and swished as she parried Culliford’s sloppy attempts to best her.

Culliford pounced forward, his blade clashing against hers. The sound of metal upon metal ringing out into the open ocean.

Emma deftly sidestepped his lunge and knocked back his sword, hardly breaking a sweat.

The battle continued on, Emma slowly wearing down Culliford’s defenses. She would score a hit to his arm, torso, or his leg with lightning speed, darting in and out before the other man knew what to do. Each time, Culliford swallowed his cry of pain and channeled it into attempting to defeat her.

After a particularly nimble parry, Emma couldn’t help but throw a glance in Killian’s direction, enjoying the immense pride she saw in his eyes. Killian stood, arms crossed from his position leaning against the mast, eyes tracking her every movement.

However, that extra moment of joy that bubbled up in her stomach from seeing his face, distracted her. It gave Culliford a slight opening. He lunged forward and slashed at her face.

Emma felt the tip of Culliford’s sword lightly scratch against her cheek and heard Killian’s unhappy growl from across the deck. Twisting her body to dodge his next attack, she was able to step back and dab at the blood welling from the cut with cautious fingertips. Emma couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Culliford, his chest heaving from exertion, sweat pooling from his brow.

“Nice feint,” she conceded, “but that’s all you’ll get.” Resuming her stance, she waved a hand towards Culliford.

The duel restarted, with a loud clashing of swords, metal ringing in the air. Emma quickly realized what Culliford lacked in finesse and skill, he attempted to make up for in sheer enthusiasm. He charged towards her, as she quickly moved her sword to deflect his blow.

Emma couldn’t help but smile into Culliford’s face as he pressed her backwards as their swords crossed. “What are you smilin’ about?” He growled, baring his yellowing teeth at her. One sweaty lock of his hair fell over into his eyes.

“There’s something I’d ought to tell you. You see, I’m not left-handed.” She raised an eyebrow, smirking as the realization of her comment flashed over his face. His body tensed as he realized that had been holding his own, but it was only against her weaker hand.

With an almighty shove, she pushed Culliford back a few paces giving her the room to turn the tide of this duel.

Deftly, Emma tossed her cutlass to her right hand and immediately switched her position, right foot sliding forward, her dominant side ready to do battle against the weakened pirate. Her cutlass cut through the air as she lazily spun it around in an impressive figure eight motion. Culliford did not have the stamina to continue a lengthy sword fight. She caught the pleased grin that flittered to Killian’s face as she did so.

“I’ve always said there’s a little bit of pirate in you, love.” Killian called out as Emma winked at him.

Culliford bellowed in rage as he charged at Emma, who easily parried his attack and spun around, eyes watching his body. He charged again, obviously hoping that he could outmuscle the smaller woman, but Emma was too nimble for his movements. It was a quick slash of Emma’s sword, a practiced disarming maneuver taught to her by her father’s finest swordsman, that ended the battle. Culliford’s cutlass flew across the deck, metal scraping over wood as it landed several feet away. Emma’s boot quickly struck out to knock the stunned man to his back, her sword hovering near his neck.

“Do you concede?” she asked, her voice neutral as her eyes darted to the men around her, watching for any sudden movements. Culliford’s eyes blazed in anger as he refused to speak. Emma sighed and pressed the tip of her sword down ever so slightly at his stubbornness.

“Culliford… Concede to Captain Swan, or I’ll finish you off myself.” Killian’s voice suddenly materialized from over her shoulder. She briefly enjoyed the confidence of having him at her back, watching over and protecting her.

Culliford glared at both Emma and Killian, embarrassment at being bested by a woman flaring in his eyes. “I concede,” he sneered. The gathered crew looked at Emma with respect in their eyes. She had proven her point, she could hold her own in a fight.

Killian presented his hand for Emma to grasp. “Come love, let me get that wound taken care of.” He turned to look at his crew, eyes landing on Smee and Figgins. “Figgins, stay at the helm. Smee, have Culliford taken down to the crew’s quarters to lick his wounds.”

Figgins and Smee both nodded and bustled off to follow their captain’s orders. The remaining men, satisfied with the entertainment, turned back to their original duties.

\------------------------

 

Once safely ensconced into his cabin, Emma couldn’t help but ask, “Do you trust them? Your crew?”

Killian paused his digging through his desk drawers for a moment. “Smee and Figgins - yes. Culliford? Never. The rest?” He shrugged his shoulders as he continued to dig. “The pirate crew turns over more than you’d expect, love. Some are loyal to no man, only to the money in their pocket and the current whore they find at port. Others come to respect you and follow you ‘til the ends of the realm.” He pulled out a clean cloth from his desk and a smaller flask.

She waved off his assistance. “It’s just a scratch, Jones. It is fine.”

Killian shook his head at her. “Let me fix you up, Swan.” Holding out a hand, he helped Emma up to sit on his desk. He sat down in his desk chair and moved it closer to her, healing items in hand. Dipping his head, he popped off the cork from the flask with his teeth.  Methodical fingers carefully dabbed the rum on the cloth before pressing it to her cheek.

Emma hissed at the contact and tried to shrink away. “Damn it, Killian. That stings.” Her hands swatted at his arm, trying to knock him away from her.

He grinned, his hook snaking around her wrist as he continued to dab carefully at her wound. “Serves you right for that stunt. What were you thinking, dueling that poor sap?”

“That I needed to prove my worth. Prove that I can handle myself around the men. That I’m not here to get on my back or kneel between your legs.”

“Color me less excited about your time on board,” he replied with a slow raise of his eyebrow, a grin tugging his lips upward.

She bit back a snort and slapped at his shoulder.

Emma watched as Killian looked her over, fingertips caressing her cheek for a long moment. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as his fingers slid from her cheek, down her arm to entangle themselves with hers once again. He looked at their entwined hands for before taking a breath and asking a question that obviously had plaguing him. “So, dearest Swan. Tell me about this... Graham.” He said Graham’s name as if it left a bitter taste on his lips.

Emma stiffened at the mention of her Lieutenant, as she wondered how the Golden Scarab was faring. She made a face down at Killian. “It was a long time ago, when I had first found him. Graham was working for the Evil Queen.”

“Regina?”

“The one and only.” Emma replied with a frown. “Graham came from a quiet family in the Enchanted Forest. He was always close with the animals…”

“Swan. I could hardly care less about the man’s life story prior to where it intercedes with yours.” He interrupted her with a slight arch of his brow.

Emma made a face at him as she moved forward in the story. “The Evil Queen was blackmailing him, planning on torturing his family. So, I was able to smuggle him out of the kingdom, hiding him from the Queen. I left him in the Royal Navy Academy, where he enlisted. In a year, I was able to get him back aboard the Golden Scarab as our boatswain. From there...” She sighed, nervously undoing the ribbon from her hair and running a hand through the loose strands. “You know how it is, months on the open ocean… It gets… lonely.”

He nodded as he looked out the windows, undoubtedly thinking about Milah before turning to look back at her.

“After a few times… We stopped, he wanted more from the arrangement than I was comfortable with. When I declined, he ended our dalliance saying that he knew better than to expect more. Apparently, I carried a torch for someone else.” She told him with a roll of her eyes.

Killian’s blue eyes snapped back to hers, freezing her in place, making her realize the weight of the words that tumbled from her lips.

An ocean of unspoken words and thoughts careened madly between them for the long moment before Killian cursed under his breath. He stood and looped his arm around her back roughly, crashing his lips down to hers.

  
“And I you, Swan.” He murmured against her lips, finally taking what they had both wanted for so long.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the delay for this chapter - I basically sat around and worried that it wouldn't be good enough! Feedback would be much appreciated and thank you to everyone who has sent me notes :)

Chapter Nine

 

His strong arms scooped her small body up, lips moving passionately against hers as he carried her to his bed. Emma wrapped her legs around his lithe form, not wanting to break contact for even a moment. She felt that finally, all her cards were laid bare, there was truly nothing between them. 

 

They were finally home.

 

Emma clutched him tighter, fingers deeply digging into his lapels of his jacket, legs still tightly wound around him. She broke the kiss, resting her forehead into the crook of his neck, feeling the erratic beat of his pulse. Feeling his heartbeat put a smile on her face as she trailed her lips down his neck, enjoying the unique taste of him.

 

“Swan. Gods, I thought this whole time… You weren’t interested… Just taking pity on the one-handed pathetic pirate.” He whispered brokenly as their bodies crashed to his bed, still entangled together.

 

Emma pulled back a fraction from his lips to look him in the eye. “Killian. I never knew how to say it. I’ve always been a woman of action, not quite as savvy with words like you. That’s why I’m here.” She slipped her fingers into his dark locks, lowering her mouth back to his. “I’ve always wanted you.” She murmured, feeling his breath against her lips.

 

Killian looked at her, his blue eyes dilating slightly at her words, his hand clenched at her hip. “You are a bloody marvel.” He dipped his head to recapture her lips, slanting his mouth over hers possessively. They kissed for a long, breath taking moment before he gently traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, still ever the gentleman, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

 

Emma moaned lightly as his tongue slipped inside, caressing and demanding all at once. His body pressed down against hers, pushing her backwards into his bed, allowing her to feel all the hard muscles of his body. How long had she dreamed of him being with her like this? Was it possible that she had wanted him for her entire life? She shifted her hips slightly, moving her leg to wrap around his hip, aligning her body to feel his throbbing length rocking against her core. Her hands went for the buttons of his black shirt and vest. Her fingers trembled as she freed the garment from his body, hands tracing down the firm muscles of his chest. 

 

Killian groaned at the contact, experimentally rolling his hips against her, once,  twice . “Emma.” He rasped, wanting everything, but holding himself back. He was used to just ripping clothes off random willing tavern wenches with his hook, taking his pleasure and leaving. But this was his Swan, his princess. His first love. He felt oddly out of sorts, washed asea in a dingy, battling the current of his emotions and desires. Killian’s eyes looked over Emma’s panting form, still clothed in her white captain’s jacket with simple chemise underneath.

 

He ran one hand under her clothing, caressing her bare breast for a moment before drifting back down to the hem of her chemise. He grinned wickedly at the wrecked look in her eyes as she arched to his touch, moan tumbling from her lips. “However, dearest Swan, you are wearing far, far too many clothes. Normally, I’d rip them off you with my hook.”

 

She smiled up at him, one hand caressing his stubbled cheek. “Don’t you dare rip my jacket.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,  Princess .” He winked at her, sending an involuntary shiver through her body. “Sit up.” 

 

Emma pushed herself up to her elbows, allowing him to pull off her jacket and chemise, leaving her gloriously bare from the waist up. Killian’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her pink nipples, flushed with arousal.

 

Emma sensed his hesitation and chuffed slightly, and tangled her hands in his dark hair, pulling him flush against her. They both moaned at the glorious contact of their bare flesh. Trailing her lips down towards his collarbone, she took the time to lightly suck a bruise against his neck, loving the moan that left his lips. His chest was littered with small scars, the life of a pirate taking a toll on his body. 

 

Regardless, it was still absolutely magnificent and currently  all hers.

 

“ _Mine_.” She growled lightly, gently raking her nails down his chest to settle at the edge of his leather pants. Her hands worked at his laces, greedily slipping inside the tight confines to stroke him.

 

“Always.” He breathed, lips and tongue doing sinful things to her neck as she touched and stroked his hard length. She loved how his hips instantly started to thrust into her hands. “However, my love, if you continue doing things with those wickedly talented hands of yours, I’m afraid this might not last as long as you’d like.” Killian gasped out, pulling her hands from his pants, dropping gentle kisses across her knuckles.

 

“Mmmm.” Emma moaned, drawing her lips back to his, kissing him fiercely for a moment. “Maybe... I want to see you lose control. I still remember my stern Lieutenant from academy. So prim and proper, lecturing everyone on good form.” She whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his neck. “Maybe, Jones… I might have taken matters into my own hands back in the academy thinking about that stern Lieutenant and his seductive blue eyes. Tangling my fingers into that ponytail of his.” She broke off with a throaty moan, remembering his former self.

 

Killian groaned loudly at her whispered words, his hand slipping between them, palming her breast. “Gods.  Emma . You will be the death of me.” 

 

“I remember the first time I slipped my hands into my pants… thinking of you.” She moaned again, flicking her tongue around his earlobe when suddenly, he had pulled back from her arms. Emma shivered at the cool air that breezed over her body as she blinked, finding Killian kneeling at the foot of his bed, blue eyes blazing with lust. 

 

“Swan, I guarantee that the only hand in your pants from now on will be mine.” He tucked his hook into the top of her tan breeches, the feeling of the cool metal against her skin making her arch in pleasure as his good hand attacked the laces. He made quick work of the knots, pulling her breeches down and throwing them off into a far corner of his cabin. 

 

Killian rocked back on his heels, breath stolen at the sight of Emma Swan naked in his bed, blonde hair spread out on his pillow.

  
“Love, do you know how many lonely nights I thought of you bare and wanton in my bed? How many nights I had to take myself in hand thinking of you?” His hand pushed his leather pants down past his hips, his erection bobbing slightly with the movement. He quickly detached the gleaming hook from the brace, allowing it to drop to the floor with a clang. 

 

“Show me.” She breathed, her eyes looking over his form, appreciating every dip, curve and muscle. His dark dusting of chest hair that trailed down to his prominent manhood, throbbing with need for her. Eyes blazing with need, he curled his hand around himself, stroking slowly. 

 

Emma felt the heady roll of desire through her core as she watched him, eyes transfixed to the slow rock of his hips into his hand. Finally, her hands lifted upwards, beckoning him to join her.

 

Killian crawled up the bed, looking like a predator stalking his eager prey. His fingertips grazed up her leg as he moved, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. They caressed over the damp curls at her core, parting her lips and spreading her arousal.

 

Emma couldn’t help squirming restlessly at his touch, wanting everything, thrusting her hips towards him, seeking relief. “Killian.” She keened, body arching into his touch, as his questing fingers slipped inside of her. Eyes fluttering closed, she let the heady sensation of his touch wash over her. Finally, her hands shot out, grasping his forearm, pulling his body towards hers. 

 

He smiled down at her, popping his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the two digits to taste her essence. “Yes?”

 

“Killian Jones, if you don’t get inside of me…” 

 

A low chuckle left his lips. “There’s my Swan.”

 

She lunged up to capture his lips once again, tangling her hands into his dark hair, pulling him downward with her. “There is an eager, willing princess in your bed,  Captain Jones , don’t you think it’s time to take what’s being offered?” Emma thrust her hips upward to brush against throbbing length of him.

 

“As you wish, love.” He murmured softly, teasing the head of his manhood against her soaking folds before thrusting inside, sliding in to completion. A gasp left Emma’s lips as he filled her to perfection. They both stilled for a moment, their hearts pounding frantically, fifteen years of yearning coming to fruition.

 

Blue eyes searched her face, as his hips slowly started to move, stretching and filling her with each thrust. Emma dug her heels into the bed, meeting his motions as they started to increase with speed and intensity. She couldn’t help the mewl of pleasure that left her lips when he hit the one spot, deep inside of her that made her see stars. “Gods, please, don’t stop. Don’t  ever stop.” She could feel the curl of her orgasm deep in her belly, the rhythmic, hypnotic tug of desire, threatening to overwhelm her.

 

“Never,” he rasped, his hips starting to stutter as he neared his release. He slid his good hand in between their bodies, slipping down to where she was wet and aching for him and started to press and circle, fingers insistent. “Emma. Emma, be a good girl and come for me, my golden princess.” He whispered, words hot and seductive in her ear.

 

Emma shattered with a moan, her fluttering walls a cue for Killian to jerkily withdraw, his body hovering above hers, panting harshly.  His eyes drifted closed as he took a few strokes with his hand, his seed spilling on her belly with his low groan. They both gasped for breath before Killian pushed back to his feet with a small grunt, fetching a cloth to wipe Emma clean. She shot him a grateful smile, when his sure hand wiped the evidence of their actions from her stomach.

 

He collapsed down next to Emma, pulling her to him with light kiss to her head as she yawned, the desire for sleep starting to overwhelm her. “I haven’t spent this much time in a bed in years, Jones.” She told him as she burrowed against him happily.

Killian hummed softly, already starting to drift off as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good. I don’t intend on letting you leave anytime soon.”

\--------------------------------

Hours later, Emma was curled into Killian’s side, lightly dozing after another session of intense love-making. Killian grinned down at her, fingers tracing idle patterns on her bare shoulder before pressing a reverent kiss on her warm flesh. 

 

Green eyes blinked up at him, a slow smile gracing her face. “Hi.”

 

He ducked his head to brush his lips against hers, soft and tender. “Hi there.” 

 

Emma stretched lazily next to his warm body, limbs pleasantly sore from their vigorous activities. “I think you’re spoiling me, sleeping in the middle of the day? What would Lieutenant Jones say?” She teased, lightly poking him in the ribs and loving the smile he graced her in return.

 

“I’d tell him to bugger off and get his own beautiful lass.” Killian chuckled as he captured her lips again, simply unable to get enough of her. He paused briefly, mulling over the question in his mind. “Swan. Did you ever think…... that it would be like this?” He trailed his fingertips down her shoulder, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

 

Emma craned her head to look up into his face, not able to stop her smile. “I sure hoped it would be. Then... I worried that I would never find you again.” She marveled at her desire to stay curled up in his bed indefinitely, usually the siren call of the open deck would be calling her out of bed and back to her duties.

 

She could feel his heavy exhale against her neck as his fingers hesitated. “You didn’t want to find me back then.” Emma didn’t have to look into his eyes to feel his embarrassment towards his past actions.

 

“Jones. None of that matters now. We’re together.” She told him firmly, hands drifting up and down on his muscular chest, rubbing in soothing circles. It took another moment for his hand to resume it’s lazy, drifting patterns on her skin.

 

He is the only person that ever made me feel this way . She realized happily as her eyes drifted closed at his touch.

 

Killian hummed, pulling her closer, hand slipping underneath the covers to trail down the rest of her body, intent on making her scream out his name once more.

 

A sudden roar of a nearby cannon broke their peaceful moment of silence. Killian sprang from their warm tangle of bedsheets and scrambled to the window, peering out, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He was completely unconcerned about his state of undress, eyes trained on the sea. The waning afternoon sun was an unusual time to start an attack, with the setting sun giving any upcoming battles a definite time limit. However, when dealing with pirates and piracy, anything was truly possible.

 

Emma jumped from her position, quickly searching over the side of the bed for her breeches and chemise. She threw them on with an abrupt movement and grabbed Killian’s leather pants as she moved to the glass panels.

 

“Thanks, love.” He yanked the pants on, keeping one cautious eye on the view out the  window as he dressed.

 

“Did a ship just fire a warning shot across our bow?” Emma asked, fingers flying up the buttons of her jacket, then quickly gathering her hair back.

 

Killian nodded grimly, dropping down to the floor to find his black shirt and vest. His crew needed their captain on deck as soon as possible. He closed his hand around the cold metal of his hook as he twisted it back into the brace with a loud click. Next, he fastened his cutlass and flintlock pistol to his waist, deftly completing the task with his hook and hand.

 

Behind him, Emma inhaled sharply as the offending ship came into view. The large ship, three masts, sporting the red sails of piracy was well recognized in any realm. A cold shiver of dread worked its way down Emma’s spine, as she knew the amount of men needed on that ship just to man the cannons alone, let alone the sordid tales of who captained the helm. She calculated the amount of men she had seen on the Jolly Roger, her math coming up short when compared to the ship gliding through the water before them. 

 

Killian spun on his heel at the sound of Emma’s quiet gasp, looking at the ship in the distance. “Buggering fuck… that’s the…”

 

“The Queen Anne’s Revenge.” Emma finished grimly.

 

“Blackbeard.” Killian growled, pulling on his black leather jacket, eyes still trained on the water.


End file.
